Best 1798 quotes in «words quotes» category

I believe writing is a gift God gave us to share His thoughts poured out upon us! Writing is a talent needing care and comfort; open up and let the Lord inspire you!

I bleed passion. I’m not entirely sure what this means but I’m greedy over the words. They’re so full of life. And I really need some life to balance out the desperate allure of the dark.

I can arrange words on a page but I can't seem to organize books on a shelf. Over the years, My Secret has shelved thousands and thousands, held each one in his hands. He thinks they might have seeped into him, through his skin, as much as the books he's read. At night and on his days off we spend hours talking about writing. He reads three or four books at a time. When he's not working at the bookstore he goes to other bookstores around the city and browses until closing time. Holding more volumes in his hands, filling himself up with words.

I can feel the power of the words doing the work. Must trust language more.

I came to pen another poem for you, but even every unwritten poem is you.

I can remember the lush spring excitement of language in childhood. Sitting in church, rolling it around my mouth like marbles -- tabernacle and pharisee and parable, trespasses and Babylon and covenant.... I collected the names of stars and of plants: Arcturus and Orion and Betelgeuse, melilot and fumitory and toadflax. There was no end to it, apparently -- it was like the grains of sand on the shore, the leaves on the great ash outside my bedroom window, immeasurable and unconquerable.

I can see why many visual artists dislike words in artworks. They feel that words dirty the clear water that has to reflect the sky. It disturbs the pleasure of the silent image, the freedom from history, the beauty of nameless forms. (...) I know that neither images nor words, can escape the drunkenness and longing caused by the turning of the world. Words and images drink the same wine. There is no purity to protect.

I care not how humble your bookshelf may be, or how lonely the room which it adorns. Close the door of that room behind you, shut off with it all the cares of the outer world, plunge back into the soothing company of the great dead, and then you are through the magic portal into that fair land whither worry and vexation can follow you no more. You have left all that is vulgar and all that is sordid behind you. There stand your noble, silent comrades, waiting in their ranks. Pass your eye down their files. Choose your man. And then you have but to hold up your hand to him and away you go together into dreamland

I collect my thoughts, I choose my words, Whenever I decide to talk to you. But... I feel like a dumb, without a tongue, Whenever I reach in front of you. I wonder why it happens to me? even when my feelings are genuine and true.

I choose to choose few words each day. Yes! few words that count. Few words that can make impact. Few words that talk much. Few words that can make people ponder to wonder. Few words that are indelible. Few words that can leave distinctive footprints on minds. Though we may fail to mind our words, we shall never fail to mind the works of our words.

I checked my words carefully. Words more powerful than atom bombs and more cutting than AK-47s. People are fragile and words, not bullets will break them, and once they break every part of them spills out. Their soul, spirit, identity, ugliness, and their beauty. It’s all there, right in front of you if you know where to look. Most people see the ugly and I didn't want to become that. I thought I looked for beauty but then wondered why I often say such ugly things.

I clung to each word that fell from his lips like a spider to a web.

I could be that tenebrous enigma that floods out your words with sighs and frustration.

I'd developed an inability to demonstrate much negative emotion at all. It was another thing that made me seem like a dick - my stomach could be all oiled eels, and you would get nothing from my face and less from my words. It was a constant problem: too much control or no control at all.

Ideas were found by the freethinker, expressed by poet with the new words, formulated by scholar into knowledge.

I did not know then that words and music are more deadly than any spear.

I didn't belong Because maybe I never wanted To belong. When everybody else danced and sang, I sat silently in my room with books, Books, and books. I used books for self-defense And as stealth bombers: I am better than you Because I have read more books than you; I am Beloved by these books; I am beloved by words.

I did not want to appear before the world as pathetic, deprssed, and psychologically ill. So I erected a barrier of words and wit around myself, so that nobody could see how needy I really was.

I didn't like it when he looked at me like that. I could never escape the feeling that i was being compared to someone else.

I didn't understand right away what she meant. But her words soaked through my skull like warm oil, behind my eyes, down my spine and into the empty space inside me.

i done forgot all abt words aint got no definitions

I don’t believe in signs. I believe in words, and action, and doing. And what you’re doing is sitting and waiting and that is one hundred percent unacceptable.

I don’t charge for the words I write. I charge for joining them together.

I dont celebrate any friendship that was build on hate, because we share the common enemy.

I don't even like the word ‘indoors’. It doesn’t make sense. According to you right now, by stepping through the doorway I’d be indoors. Yet I wouldn’t actually be standing in the doorway. If it’s supposed to refer to being inside a building, then they shouldn’t have used the word ‘door,’ since last time I checked, doors don’t make up every square inch of a building! And I’d assume that now, since I’m not indoors, you’d say I’m ‘out of doors’, right? But, shouldn’t out of doors just be everywhere that’s not directly under a door? You know what, from now on I insist that everyone refer to being in a building as being ‘under-roof’.

I don’t know: perhaps it’s a dream, all a dream. (That would surprise me.) I’ll wake, in the silence, and never sleep again. (It will be I?) Or dream (dream again), dream of a silence, a dream silence, full of murmurs (I don’t know, that’s all words), never wake (all words, there’s nothing else). You must go on, that’s all I know. They’re going to stop, I know that well: I can feel it. They’re going to abandon me. It will be the silence, for a moment (a good few moments). Or it will be mine? The lasting one, that didn’t last, that still lasts? It will be I? You must go on. I can’t go on. You must go on. I’ll go on. You must say words, as long as there are any - until they find me, until they say me. (Strange pain, strange sin!) You must go on. Perhaps it’s done already. Perhaps they have said me already. Perhaps they have carried me to the threshold of my story, before the door that opens on my story. (That would surprise me, if it opens.) It will be I? It will be the silence, where I am? I don’t know, I’ll never know: in the silence you don’t know. You must go on. I can’t go on. I’ll go on.

I don't know why these things have to be transmitted by word of mouth, he thought. It wasn't exactly that they were secrets; God revealed his secrets easily to all his creatures. He had only one explanation for this fact: things have to be transmitted this way because they were made up from the pure life, and this kind of life cannot be captured in pictures or words. Because people become fascinated with pictures and words, and wind up forgetting the Language of the World.

I don't like the word 'allegorical', I don't like the word 'symbolic' - the word I really like is 'mythic', and people always think that means 'full of lies', whereas of course what it really means is 'full of truth which cannot be told in any other way but a story'.

I don't really believe anything I say. Because the nature of my work concerns the spaces between the words, rather than the words themselves.

I don’t speak a word about you but, You are there in every word I speak. I may forgive you On the day when my heart no longer Whispers your name or On the day I no longer see you in my dreams. You were my dream in the day time Now, I am going to hide you In my silence All through the night. I don’t speak a word about you but, You are there in every word I speak.

I don't tell her that my grasp on truth, on words, on people, has slipped. I was getting close, so close to normal again, and that's been snatched away. I'm not even back where I started. I'm somewhere else entirely, so far off the map I don't know where to turn next.

I don’t write poetry. I reiterate conversations.

I dread the beginning of her new life more than words can tell, but I see some hope for her if she travels - none if she remains at home.

I’d tell you what happened, but I can’t remember all of it. And I don't wanna put words in my dreams thoughts.

If a gesture is the most powerful command that you have, then words mean very little.

If a Black mother says she had a dream, listen. They are psychic.

I exhaust my body throughout the day, And I don’t get enough sleep at night. I swallow the words I have to say, And let my thoughts fuck up my peace of mind. In a matter of fact; I’ve been the one who tired me the most and I do owe myself many apologies …

If all you are looking for is a miracle you are wide open to follow the antichrist and the false prophets because they are going to have a big league of signs and wonders ministry. If signs and wonders do not bring glory and honour to Jesus Christ, then you must be watching a false prophet whose anointing does not come from the Holy Spirit of God.

If a separate personal Paradise exists for each of us, mine must be irreparably planted with trees of words which the wind silvers like poplars, by people who see their confiscated justice given back, and by birds that even in the midst of truth of death insist on singing in Greek and saying eros, eros, eros.

If a person is not inspiring you positively. There is no reason for you to be around them. You don't need their negativity in your life. There's already too much in the world. Surround yourself with people who are going to uplift you and encourage you to move forward with your dreams and goals.

I feel like people are always speaking with their eyes, their bodies, their hands, gestures, intonation, and their words - only mostly all we hear are the words. And the words get in the way. So if we just spoke with our eyes we might get closer to the truth.

If God could transcribe my heart, it'd still read "I love you".

If I am honest I will admit that I have always wanted to avoid love. Yes give me romance, give me sex, give me fights, give me all the parts of love but not the simple single word which is so complex and demands the best of me this hour this minute this forever.

If I can’t be your love, then let me be a simple brooch so I may rest a while against your chest. If I can’t be your love, then let me be a forgotten coin so I may rest a while against your thigh. If I can’t be your love, then let me be an unlit cigarette so I may rest a while in between your lips. If I can’t be your love, then let me at least remain in these words so I may rest a while in your thoughts.

I fight evil, and words are my weapons of choice.

I find me, leave me, go towards me, come from me, nothing ever but me, a particle of me, retrieved, lost, gone astray, I’m all these words, all these strangers, this dust of words, with no ground for their settling, no sky for their dispersing, coming together to say, fleeing one another to say, that I am they, all of them, those that merge, those that part, those that never meet, and nothing else, yes, something else, that I’m something quite different, a quite different thing, a wordless thing in an empty place, a hard shut dry cold black place, where nothing stirs, nothing speaks, and that I listen, and that I seek, like a caged beast born of caged beasts born of caged beasts born of caged beasts...

I find that is the best way to write during emotional scenes...put yourself and your emotions in every single word.-Nina Jean Slack

If I say a word that is angry, he explained, then I should never be surprised by the harm. And if I say something good, then it is like watching my own garden grow, and that is the greatest pleasure ever.

If I tell some one that I love him – as I may have told a hundred others – my words will convey nothing to him; but the silence which will ensue, if I do indeed love him, will make clear in what depths lie the roots of my love, and will in its turn give birth to a conviction, that shall itself be silent; and in the course of a lifetime, this silence and this conviction will never again be the same. …

If knowledge is lacking, your destruction is inevitable. Hosea 4:6